Milos weakly raised
his eyelids for the trouble of re-establishing his spatio-temporal
bearings.

The space around
him, vaguely resembling the departure hall of an airport, resounded
with the impersonal silence of strangers in transit to somewhere
else. The hushed roar of the huge aircrafts’ ballet was punctuated
by the suavely polyglot announcements of the service personnel, as
they were affectionately described by the flying elite.

“All airports
resemble each other,” he thought while searching for the visual
bearings to help him discover in which one he found himself. A look
outside gave him the answer.